


The Love Nest Affair

by spikesgirl58



Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the only room in the inn is the bridal suite, Illya and Mark decide to make the best of it.  When Napoleon arrives, the best becomes better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love Nest Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [selyndae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/selyndae/gifts).



“Talk about a change in my luck – finally,” Illya was saying as he unlocked the door.  He ignored the entwined hearts in the key’s tag.  As long as there was a prospect of a bed and hot shower on the other side of the door, he didn’t care.

Mark pushed the door to their room open and flicked on the overhead light.  He stopped and looked back over his shoulder.  “One thing I can say about you, mate, is that even your good luck is bad.”

“What do you mean?”  Illya tried to see past his fellow UNCLE agent, but Mark was both taller and broad shouldered.

“Did the clerk tell you what room he gave us?”  Mark was grinning now.

“No, just that it was the only one they had left, it being Christmas Eve and all.  And he snickered.  Considering the price he charged us, I gathered it was the source of his humor.  He did say we could wait and see if someone cancelled because of the storm coming in, but he didn’t think it likely.  As tired as I am, any port in a storm.”

“Rather, I would chalk it up to the Kuryakin bad luck striking again.  Your port, mi lord.”  Mark stepped aside and bowed.  Illya moved past him and stumbled to an abrupt halt.

“It’s… It’s...”  He gestured with his free hand.

“Really pink.”  Mark finished and laughed.  “Really, really pink…”

The thick carpet beneath their feet was fuchsia and the walls, furniture, and even the ceiling were a veritable rainbow of every shade of pink imaginable, from a delicate pink blush to an ostentatious carmine.  The weak sunlight coming through the sheer pink curtains did nothing to help the overall charm of the room.

“I didn’t know they even made pink bathtubs, much less heart-shaped ones.”  Illya managed to walk deeper into the room and looked into the raised bathtub.  “Why is it out here and why is there a spiral staircase in the center of the room?”  Illya muttered as he undid his top coat and pulled it off, tossing onto a wine-colored chaise lounge. 

“No idea.”  Mark pushed aside a heavy coral-colored drape to reveal a curtain alcove.  “Bed’s in here.”  Illya dropped his suitcase and pulled his weapon as he eased up the stairs. Mark watched him with amusement.   “Don’t think the pillows are going to attack you, mate.”

“One can never be certain.”  Illya pushed the trapdoor open and climbed another step before whistling.   He ducked back down and said, “Mark, you have got to see this to believe it.”

Illya disappeared and Mark hurriedly climbed the stairs.  The room was small, almost to the point of being claustrophobic.  Electrical candles danced on the walls, giving the room a rosy glow.  The entire floor was covered with pillows and a vase holding a variety of feathers decorated a low table, the only piece of furniture in the room. 

“What is this place?”

“Easy answer, Illya, we have been given the honeymoon suite.”

“Honeymoon suite?  This evokes a need to have sex here in America?  Back home, a honeymoon suite would be the bride’s parents putting fresh sheets on their bed and letting the happy couple go at it for a night, with the parents next door listening to everything, of course.”

“That’s what I love about your people, Illya.  They are hopeless romantics.”

Illya grinned and then held up a finger.  “Did you hear something?” 

Frowning, Illya started to push past Mark and his toe caught a pillow.   Mark caught him and tried to hold him steady, but they both landed on the floor with audible grunts. 

“Ouch.”  Mark ended up just one more cushion for Illya to land on.  “God, you’re bony and, for your size, you weigh a ton.”  He groaned loudly as Illya’s elbow dug into his stomach.

“Thanks.  It’s all muscle.”  Illya’s eyes closed slightly, studying Mark’s face.  There was a moment in which all things were possible.  Then it was gone and Illya cleared his throat as he rolled off the Brit.  “Sorry about tripping.  Pillows do not make the best floor covering.”    

Illya got to his feet and headed down the stairs quickly.  It wouldn’t do for Mark to realize the moment had been arousing for Illya.

“You got that in one, mate.”    Mark blew out a mouthful of air and took command away from his dick who wanted to very much call the shots at the moment.  Mark chastised it firmly into submission and then followed Illya down the stairs.  “I just can’t wait to hear what Napoleon says.”

“Why would he say anything?”  Illya glanced around the room and, satisfied that they were alone, he walked over to his suitcase.

“He’s rendezvousing with us here, remember?”

 “I do, but it could be worse.”

“How’s that?”  Mark set his suitcase up on a light dusty-pink bureau and began to undo the special locking mechanism. 

Illya nodded to a small white-clothed cart with a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries one it, set just inside the door. “Just imagine what the room service is saying.  He must have come in while we were… making noise.”  Illya pointed skyward and Mark winced.    
  


“So much for my reputation of being a lady killer.”

Illya helped himself to a strawberry, being careful not to dribble red juice on his shirt.  “Not to worry, Mark.  I will defend to the end that you are willing to kill ladies, if the situation arises. These are quite good.  You should try one.”

Mark did just that, catching a spurt of juice on a napkin.  “My hero.  You’re right, though.  Either these are the best strawberries I ever ate or I’m really hungry.  Do you want first crack at the shower?” Illya had a mouthful of strawberry, so Mark walked into the bathroom and sighed.  “Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s wrong?”  Illya tossed his soiled napkin down and followed Mark’s voice.

“Not only are they offering the usual complimentary items, but ,” Mark held up a foiled condom and a tube of K-Y Jelly.  “To ease the way, no doubt.”

“It certainly would in my case,” Illya muttered.  Mark frowned as if not sure whether or not he was meant to have heard that.  “I’m assuming everything in there is pink as well?”  He joined Mark and peeked in.

“Rose and scarlet, I think… oh, and there’s mood lighting in here as well.”

“What is that?  A rainbow?  With bunnies?  No subliminal context there.”  Illya rinsed his fingers off in the heart-shaped sink.  “At least the toilet isn’t heart shaped.  If it’s all the same, I think I’m going to take a bath instead.  Heart-shaped or not, a long soak would feel good at the moment.  The shower is all yours.”

“Sounds good.”  Mark waited for Illya to exit and shut the bathroom door.   Almost instantly, the sound of running water put the kibosh on further conversation.

Illya walked over to the tub.  It rested on a pedestal and was surrounded on three sides by mirrors.  There was also a mirror on the ceiling.  He never could quite figure out what the attraction was of watching yourself having sex.  It seemed to him that there were much better things to be concentrating upon at a time like that.

He turned on the taps.  Even with the water on full blast, it was going to take time for the tub to fill, so he undid his tie and pulled it off, dropping it down onto his coat.  He sat to take off his shoes and socks, letting his toes sink into the deep pile of the white carpet.    He wiggled them happily.  His suit jacket was next and then he undid the two top buttons of his shirt, yanked out the shirt tail, and sighed.  

That done, Illya did a tour of the room.  The bed was king-sized and, of course, the bedspread was pink with fake rose petals strewn over it.   The headboard of the bed was padded and over it was another rainbow, this one with soft pastel colors.  There was an inscription above it.  “Love was a feeling completely bound up with color, like thousands of rainbows superimposed one on top of the other.  Paulo Coelho.” he read aloud.  While Illya could appreciate the sentiment, he couldn’t help but note the subtle subtext.  “One on top of another, indeed.”

_At least it is a firm mattress_ , he thought as he bounded on the side of it.  _And it’s big enough for all of us._   Illya had had enough of sleeping in barns, haylofts, or tool sheds and being stuffed into closets as of late.  A good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed was just the ticket.  Also, the thought of being in bed with Napoleon was always attractive.  It reminded Illya of being back home, snug and warm, and in the embrace of a loved one.  Truth be known, Illya hated sleeping alone.

He went back to check on the level of the water and added some of the complimentary bath oils.  Rosemary and lavender suited his mood at the moment, so he emptied those bottles into the steamy water.  Then he finished stripping off and grabbed a couple of towels.    He shut off the lights except the ones to either side of the tub and slid into the water, hissing at the heat that engulfed him up to his chin.

Deep in a cocoon of scented water, Illya finally let that last bit of tension leave him.  They merely had to wait for Napoleon’s safe arrival to declare this mission a success.    At the thought of his partner, Illya’s penis gave a happy twitch.  Both he and it had been overly bothered with buxomly women trying to have their way with him.  What Illya craved at the moment could not be satisfied by a perfumed hand and coiffured hair.

He and Napoleon were close to taking that final step in their relationship and yet neither man seemed willing to embrace the commitment that it represented.  Illya was afraid he was going too fast and that Napoleon would bolt if threatened with monogamy.   Napoleon seemed afraid to push the issue, perhaps worried that Illya would resent anyone attempting to control him.

Of course, with Mark in the room, it was going to put a damper on any extracurricular activities for now.  Perhaps he could devise a scheme to get Mark out of the room for a few hours and convince Napoleon that it was now or never.

Illya sat up and brought a hand up to knead his shoulder.  It felt permanently kinked from the hour he spent crouched in a hope chest.  It had afforded him valuable information as well as a stiff neck.

A second hand settled upon his and squeezed.  “Enough room for two in there, mate?”  Mark’s voice was just a whisper in Illya’s ear.  His fellow agent was still dripping from his shower and his askew hair made him look like a satyr from an enchanted forest.

Illya frowned at that thought.  _What was in those strawberries?_  Aloud he said, “Enough for you and half a dozen more.”  Illya’s lips curled at that thought.  It had been a while since he’d pursued that particular variation.  The thought of two men taking him at once just about made him want to jump from his skin.  He was definitely going to have to come up with some dandy of a cover story to explain his rock-hard penis.  

Mark slipped into the warm water and settled in behind Illya, still working the tense muscles there.  “You are as tight and hard as a rock, Illya.”

Illya’s penis was aching and Illya leaned into Mark’s hands, grimacing as the fingers worked deep into his shoulder muscles.  “You have no idea.”

Something prodded Illya’s lower back and Mark chuckled.  “Oh, I might, but wasn’t sure if you were similarly inclined.”

“Inclined, reclined, defined, or refined, it all leads me down a similar path.”

“Now that adds a new twist to things.”  Mark’s hands continued to massage.  “I was under the impression that you and Napoleon might be… together.”

Illya let his head tip forward.    “Not yet and considering Napoleon’s predilection for the female of the species, I’m not sure we ever will be.”  Illya adjusted his position so that he was sitting astride Mark and carefully wrapped a hand around both their penises and began to move his hand in long smooth strokes.

“While you, on the other hand…”  Mark moved his hands from Illya’s back to the blonde’s chest. 

“Am prepared to make the most of whatever opportunity presents itself.”  Illya closed his eyes and smiled as Mark’s fingers found his nipples and pinched them gently.

For a few minutes they continued like that, both content in their frottage and then Mark bucked up his hips, nearly tipping Illya face first into the water.  Water surged dangerous close to the edge.  “Not like this, Illya.  If we are going to do this, I want to do it properly.  Get off.”

“That’s the plan.”

“No, I mean, get off me.”

Illya complied and Mark stepped from the tub and over to a pile of towels.  He spread one out in front of the tub and waited for Illya to get out.  Without asking, Illya climbed out, draped a towel over the edge of the tub and knelt, facing the tub

“You sure, mate?”  Mark’s voice was thick with desire as he reached for the lube.  The fact that it was pink was not lost on him.  He began to work it into his position and nearly gasped as his penis started to tingle. 

“You have three seconds or assume the position yourself, Mark.  I’m not going to last much longer.”

Illya growled as Mark entered him.  He squinted his eyes shut at the initial burning stretch.  It had been a while and he was tight.   He desperately wanted Mark to go slow and yet ached for the strength and power of having a man take him.  At the same time, there was a tingling glow that was threatening to send him over the edge.

“Christ, Illya, just breathe, mate, and try to relax.  You’ll snap me in two if you don’t.”

“Sorry.”  Illya panted and then Mark nudged his prostate.  “No, not sorry at all.  Do it again.”

“With you holding my dick hostage, damn right I will.”  Mark slid out and re-entered a bit faster this time.  “I’m not going to last long.”

“Do what you need to do.” Illya pressed back and tightened his anal muscles.  Mark groaned, grabbed Illya’s hips and began to thrust.

It took Mark just a few strokes to finish, his fingers digging into Illya’s hips as he climaxed.  He dropped to the floor and moaned happily.  “You killed me, Kuryakin.”

“Not yet, but I will if you don’t finish what you started.”  Illya pushed back off the tub and fell on his back.  Illya’s penis bobbed in Mark’s direction and the Brit chuckled before taking Illya’s dick in hand to stroke it.  He leaned in and blew over the top of it, grinning as Illya arched. 

“Like that, do you?”  Mark licked carefully, but he could tell by Illya’s breathing that the man wasn’t going to last much longer.  He bowed his head and took as much of Illya’s penis into his mouth as he could without gagging. 

He tongued and sucked and Illya climaxed with a shout and a whimper.   Mark stretched out beside him, his head propped up on one arm and ran his fingers over Illya’s belly, still slick from the bath oil. 

“Thank you,” Illya murmured, after he was inclined to speak again. 

“Anytime, mate.”  With a grunt, Mark got up and grabbed the champagne and the glasses.  The ice had long since melted, but the bottle was cold.  He popped the cork and carefully poured some alcohol into a glass before passing it over.  ““Now this is a secret side of you I never thought I’d get to participate in. Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not yet.”  Illya answered with a smirk.

 “Cheers, then.”  He took a big swallow of the champagne.

“Cheers, and I think you are supposed to sip champagne, Mark.”  Illya drained the glass and looked wistfully over at the bed.   

“Fancy a roll there as well?”  Mark poured both of them more to drink.  “You’ll need to give me a few minutes to recover.  You take a lot out of a man.”

“You have no idea.  I’m thinking more of a good night’s sleep instead, but something to eat would be of equal interest.”

“It’s still pretty early, like two in the afternoon, for a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s US time.  I’m still on Taiwan time.  It’s the middle of the night to me.”

“There’s a room service menu by the TV.  You fancy anything in particular?  Even though it’s Christmas Eve, I’m sure the hotel restaurants are serving.”

“Edible would be a highlight.”  Illya got to his feet and stretched his back.  “And, Mark, make sure you order enough this time.”

                                                                                *****

Mark was trying to read, but he was restless.  The furniture, while all appearing comfortable and inviting, felt like rocks.  He couldn’t find a position that suited him and yet he was hesitant to turn on the light over the bed.  Whether by design or accident, there were no reading lights by the bed.

That’s when the spiral staircase caught his eye.  _Now there’s a thought,_ Mark thought and grinned.  It had to be more comfortable up there.

He was just about to mount the stairs when he heard a soft knock to the door.  Grabbing his robe and gun, he moved to the side of the door and risked a look out the peep hole.  He smiled, dropped the gun into the pocket of his robe, and opened the door to let Napoleon enter.

Mark immediately brought a cautionary finger to his lips and looked over at the bed where Illya was sleeping.   He pointed the same finger skyward and beckoned.

With an intrigued half smile, Napoleon set his suitcase down, shut the door, and followed Mark as he led the way up the spiral staircase and into the loft.  Mark had just gotten the lights on as Napoleon popped up through the trapdoor and grimaced.

“What is all this?” he asked softly as Mark closed the trapdoor behind him

“The last room in the inn,” Mark answered, keeping his voice low.  “We didn’t ask when the clerk said it was available.   Not sure we would have protested even if he had warned us.  It’s not too bad once you get used to all the pink.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely possible.”

“When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago.  It took me a while to decipher your message and get here.  It’s hard to catch a cab on Christmas Eve.”  Napoleon took off his overcoat and tossed it onto a pile of pillows.  “This is quite the little love nest.”

“Don’t let Sleeping Beauty hear you say that.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s great,” Mark answered and then hastily added.  “I mean, he’s exhausted and stuffed to the gills.  There’s probably something left over from room service on the cart.  I don’t think he ate the catsup or all the butter.”

Napoleon chuckled and shook his head.  “No, I ate on the plane.”  He looked around and lowered himself down onto some pillows.  “Should I even ask how you two amused yourselves tonight?”

“Depends.  Which answer is likely to get me shot?”

”It’s okay, Mark.  I know what Illya’s like after an assignment like this.  And we’re all adults here.”

“You do?  We are?”

“All stressed up with no place to go.”  Napoleon got one shoe off and frowned as his toe poked through a hole.  He peeled it off and stuck his finger through it.  “And it’s a brand new pair of socks.”  He shook his head.  “The quality of goods these days.”  He removed the other shoe and sock off and flexed his feet.  “I’ve worked with him enough to know why he disappears for a few hours and why he’s so stiff the next morning to know it often has nothing to do with the assignment.  It’s just nice to know he was with someone I know and respect.”

“Well, I was just afraid…”

“I haven’t staked a claim on him, Mark.”

“You should.  He has it bad for you.  There’s nothing he’d like better.”

Napoleon smiled sadly and shook his head.  “I’m not so sure about that.  I’ve tried, but he keeps backing away.”

“I am.  You have to tell him, Napoleon, or someone else is going to move in your place.”

“Who?  You?”

“Naw, I’m not a one-fella fella.  Besides, I have too much respect for the two of you.  You’re partners and that has to mean something.”  Mark smiled as Napoleon tried to suppress his yawn.  “What I think is that you need to sleep on it and see what happens in the morning.”

“What about you?”

“I’m still on England time.  You two take the bed and think about what I’m saying, Napoleon.  Illya’s the sort of man who will wait forever if he thinks there’s a chance of you two making a go of it.  Don’t disappoint him, Napoleon.  Seriously, all we had was sex and if it’s half as good as his love, you are a very lucky man indeed.  Don’t lose him -- that would be the biggest mistake in your life.”

Napoleon nodded wearily.  “Duly noted.”  He got up to leave and looked back at his fellow agent.  “Thanks, Mark.”

“For what?”

“Keeping him safe for me.”

“All part of the services rendered.”

                                                                                ****

Illya woke in a state of blissful comfort.  They’d fallen asleep, nestled together like two spoons in a drawer, but they’d shifted in their sleep.  Illya was nestled against a solid body and he liked that just fine.

Then he came awake with a jolt.  He sat up and was rewarded with a grumble. 

“Go to sleep, Illya.  It’s just me.  A tired and very bone-weary me.”

Illya slid back into place, smiling as Napoleon’s arm settled over his stomach.  “When did you get in?”

“Late last night or early this morning, depending upon how you want to call it.   Mark was good enough to let me in.”

“And, again, I am beholding to you, Mr. Slate,” Illya murmured and then he rolled his head.  “Where’s Mark?”

“He’s sleeping with the pillows.”  Napoleon pointed skyward and then looked at his watch. 

“Why isn’t he sleeping in bed?  There’s certainly enough room.”

“Wouldn’t know it by the way you claim the real estate.  How can someone so compact take up so much room?  He was having trouble shifting his clock and was up there reading when I arrived.”  Napoleon yawned and stretched, then pulled Illya closer.  “He thought we could use a little private time.”

“He… he knows?”

“He suspects.”  Napoleon’s penis dug into Illya’s stomach.  “He told me that I would be an idiot to let you go.”

“And you believe him?”

“A man has to believe in something.”  Napoleon let his hand travel down to Illya’s ass and squeezed the firm flesh.  “And I believe you have something I would very much like to share.”

“What’s that?”

Napoleon kissed him.  “Your love.”  Another kiss. “Your heart.”  A third kiss.  “Your life.”  Illya started to grin through the kiss and Napoleon pulled back.  “What’s wrong?”

“You know that Mark and I –“

“I do.”

“I wondered what was missing.”

“And?”

“Never once did we kiss and only once did we speak.  Otherwise, it was just the act itself.”

Napoleon kissed him again, lingering this time.  He kneaded Illya’s ass and rubbed his dick against Illya’s stomach.

“I have something better for you to rub,” Illya murmured.  He pulled away slightly so that he could get his hand between them and trap their penises together.  Napoleon moaned and Illya stilled his hand.  “Napoleon, have you…?”

“Not as a habit, but, yes, I have.”

“Let me ride shot gun on this one then?  Just until you get the hang of it?”

“I’ve trusted you with my love - why not everything else?”  Napoleon pulled back.  “We are going to need something.”

“The hotel was kind enough to provide.”  Illya held up some lube.  “I will warn you, though, it has a bit of a kick to it.  They added a little peppermint oil to spice things up.”

“I’m game if you are.”

Illya flopped onto his back and his penis saluted the ceiling.  “What do you think?”

Napoleon bent and slid the foreskin down to fully expose the penis’s head. He took the tip of it in his mouth, sucking it. “I think it will be just fine.”  He ran his tongue down first one side and then the other, taking delicate gentle nibbles.  “Mark told me.”  Napoleon returned to Illya’s glans and rubbed it across his lips and teeth.

“It was only sex, Napoleon.”  He hissed at the stimulation.

“I know.  That’s why I’m here.”

“Move towards me.  I want to taste you.” Illya said softly and waited while Napoleon navigated the mounds of pink- and rose-colored bedding.  Illya smiled as Napoleon’s penis hovering enticingly an inch away from his nose, then he took the penis and sucked it deeply into his mouth.  He wrapped his hands around Napoleon’s waist to massage and squeeze Napoleon’s ass encouragingly.

Illya could tell Napoleon was getting close to the edge and he ran a fingertip around Napoleon’s anus, pressing in.

Napoleon tilted his head back with a soft moan.  “No, Illya, not like this.  I want you in me.”

Illya released Napoleon’s penis, but didn’t stop his fingers and their exploration.  “It might hurt.”

“I’m not exactly a blushing bride, Illya.  I have had anal sex before.”

“Not with me you haven’t…”

                                                                                ****

Mark stirred and frowned.  At first, he was trying to remember where he was.  Then the previous day’s memories cascaded down to him and his bladder started complaining.

“Okay, mate, give me a break here.”  Mark groped until he found the light switch and winced as the candles popped on.  Even their dim light was bright at the moment. 

He ran a hand through his hair and found his way to the trap door and opened in.  The sounds that greeted him told him that Napoleon had indeed taken Mark’s advice to heart.  Now he was faced with a dilemma.  In order to get to the bathroom, he needed to go downstairs, but he didn’t want to interrupt the men.  Yet his bladder was close to bursting.  In the end, it was that which made up his mind.

As quietly as he could manage, he moved down the stairs, relieved to see that the curtains around the bed were drawn, hiding him from view.  Mark walked quickly to the bathroom and relieved himself with a heartfelt sigh.  He didn’t want to run the shower, so he had a quick wash up at the sink and then reviewed his options.  The rabbits seemed to be taunting him with their sparkly eyes and cheerful smiles.

As he walked back into the main room of the honeymoon suite, Mark was delighted to hear silence.   Now that he knew his fellow agents were asleep, he could move a bit more freely around the room.  He had seen a coffee set up by the bay windows, perhaps suggesting that it was to double as a breakfast nook after a night of nookie.    Mark grinned at his own joke.

He pushed the curtain aside, but it was still too dark to see much more than the heavily falling snow.  At least Napoleon had gotten in safely.

“Is it still snowing?”  Illya’s voice right behind him startled him and Mark spun.

“Crap, Illya, didn’t they tell you not to sneak up on us blokes like that?”

“Mentioned it a time or two.  I ignore it as a rule.”  Illya didn’t seem to take any notice that neither of them had a stitch of clothes on.  “I am going to hazard a guess that we are going nowhere today.”

A trio of communicators went off and Napoleon answered his before the other two could move.

“Channel D is open.  Solo here.”  Napoleon pushed back the bed curtain and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Ah, Mr. Solo.  So good of you to answer.”  Waverly’s voice was slightly chastising, even though Napoleon had answered on the first beep.  “Are all the members of your party secure?”

“Yes, sir. Both Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Slate are with me.”

“Excellent.  The weather service is saying this may well be the storm of the season.  All air travel in the East and Midwest has been grounded.  Stay where you are and you will be alerted when it is safe to travel.  Oh, and, Mr. Solo?”

“Sir?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“And to you and yours,” Napoleon told a dead communicator.  He dropped it onto the nightstand and looked over at Illya and Mark. “So, it looks as if we are stuck here at the moment.  However shall we pass the time, gentlemen?”

Illya glanced down as his rapidly engorging penis and grinned at Mark.  “I have a suggestion.”

Mark grinned back.  “I think I am in a position to love your suggestion, Mr. Kuryakin.”  They turned back to Napoleon, both sporting hard-ons.  “What do you think, Mr. Solo?”

“I think I like the cut of your jib, Mr. Slate.”  Napoleon reached for the phone.  “However, I want to get some coffee and shower first.”

“There’s coffee here.”  Mark indicated the small side table that held the fixings.  “Nasty instant stuff, but it’s here… and the shower is quite large… as is the bath.”

“Then how about freshly brewed coffee, Danish, and we’ll play the rest by ear.”  Napoleon punched the room service number.  “This is Mr. Kuryakin in the Honeymoon Suite.  Would you send up coffee and two baskets of Danish?  For six please, we have worked up an appetite.  Fifteen minutes will be fine.”  He hung and laughed.  “That should do your reputation for a while, my friend.“

Mark grinned and nodded as he followed Illya back to bed.   “Three blokes in bed together?  They’re likely to call the vice squad on us.”

“With the bed curtains closed, it’s their word against ours,” Illya headed for the middle of the bed and held the blankets open for Mark.”  He settled down and sighed happily as Napoleon’s arm snaked down across his groin.  A moment later, Mark’s arm joined Napoleon’s and he felt a shiver of excitement shoot through him of the thought of them both taking him at the same time. 

 And they talk about his luck as being bad.  To Illya’s way of thinking, it was going to be a very Merry Christmas, indeed.

 

 

 


End file.
